Have You Ever Had That Feeling?
by Key the Metal Idol
Summary: Yet another OC story, will be grounded in canon for seasons 1 through 5. OC submissions back open!
1. Chapter 1

**I've signed up for a number of OC stories before but I've never written one. At absolute most there will be twenty characters since I figure that's how many we never paid attention to on the beach. I'd like to mix it up a little here, so here are some guidelines that are probably stricter than most:**

1. No duplicates, if you've used your character in another story do not submit them here. I do watch other OC stories so don't think I won't notice.

2. When I say no Sues I mean it! If I think your character is headed on a Sueish direction I will rewrite the character more realistically and send it back to you for approval. If the changes aren't approved or altered to be more acceptable within 72 hours the character will not be used.

3. Your character does not have a right to derail canon. Don't get mad if your long lost brother/sister/son/daughter isn't accepted when it's clear they couldn't exist on the show. You've got a chance to create a completely original character—use it!

4. On that note be original with names, but not ridiculous. If your character is a certain nationality make sure their name is culturally appropriate—Google is your friend!

5. If you can't deal with the death, injury, or altering of your character, don't submit. Imposing restrictions on my writing is a waste of time for both of us.

6. No more than one male and one female character submitted per username. If you've got puppet accounts, it isn't like I'll know about it, but I'd prefer you be honest.

7. Any age/gender/sexual orientation is fine. I love slash and it's underrepresented in OC stories and in Lost as a whole.

8. Your character does not speak French or Korean.

9. I reserve the right to reject or alter any character and their backstory for any reason, listed or not.

10. If you have a question PM me! I promise I don't bite—unless you ask nicely! ;)

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**Application**

**Full Name (include middle if they have it):**

**What character is typically called (only first name, stage name, ect.):**

**Age:**

**Hometown/Country:**

**Current Residence/Living Situation(include pets if they exist!):**

**Nicknames (used by whom? Don't go overboard! ):**

**Why were they on the plane (details go with backstory not here):**

**Why were they in Sydney (details go with backstory not here):**

**Connections to other Losties (don't include Jacob please, and a little reserve is appreciated):**

**Friends (and why):**

**Enemies (and why):**

**Pairings (remember, may be ignored or altered):**

**Possessions (if Sawyer stole anything from their luggage, please note it here also):**

**Appearance (no celebrities or photos—describe them):**

**Occupation (also, do they have awards/warnings against them?):**

**Backstory (include family, personality, and possible flashbacks here):**

**Group (Fuselage or Tail section only!): **

**Hobbies, important likes/dislikes, allergies, other info, or requests: **

**

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**

A few hints as far as storyline goes, original Lost characters will be experiencing lots of deja vu when things follow the same route as the show. I might decide to go a little more towards an M rating later on—I haven't decided yet, but if you don't want OC porn please put it in with your request on the application.


	2. Chapter 2

Don't breathe until you surface, Kody tells himself. Except he wasn't underwater.

_Oh, yeah_, he thought, _the plane._

The smoke was terrible, that's why his lungs were protesting. The constant throbbing of his back was starting to feel dull in comparison.

"I have to get out," he said, but it only came out as an undecipherable mumble. Kody tried to get free of his seat, forgetting that he was strapped to it. After a fumbling show that might have been funny if anyone had been watching, he got loose from the seat. He made a split second decision to grab his bag from the overhead compartment—Kody never wanted to see the inside of this plane again.

As he staggered out of the gouge in the fuselage he tried to console himself. He could write a book about all of this, and make some extra cash. Well, get a ghostwriter, tell him what had happened, and get him to write it. Kody's teachers weren't wrong when they said he was a terrible writer. It wasn't like he was super famous or anything, but surely when things like this happened you had to expect some attention, and his bank account could always use the help—rent in Chicago wasn't cheap.

_Unless it's filled with cannibals or something, and nobody escapes. Even worse, it could be like that movie with the soccer players where *we're* the cannibals,_ Kody shivered and took a deep breath. He shouldn't be thinking like this right now.

He walked trance-like down to the waterline and away from the rest of the panicking people. His back was killing him again, but if there was anyone in the water, Kody was sure he could tough it out and get them. Scanning the ocean he didn't see anybody, so he sat down in the sand, carry-on bag thumping down on the sand next to him.

Kody must have sat for an hour, completely shell shocked before snapping back to reality. He opened his bag and pulled out some sunscreen, slathering it on thick. He looked back towards a slightly calmer beach and noticed a large man and pregnant woman sitting and drinking from a water bottle. Kody got up and grabbed his bag, walking over to them.

"Hey. Thought I'd see if either of you wanted any sunscreen," Kody shifted awkwardly, it was easier when people already knew who he was.

"Sure, dude. Might as well," Kody handed him a bottle and the girl smiled at him.

"Thank you...um, what's your name?" asked Claire.

"I'm Kody Kirsch."

"Hello Kody, my name is Claire and this is Hurley. I've been having contractions so I don't know if you'll want to hang around," she held her stomach and grimaced.

"Seriously. The doctor just took off and told me to keep an eye on her, but if you wanna help I don't see why not," Hurley thought that maybe he could go track down some food for everybody if Kody did stay.

"Might as well, though I doubt I'll be much help. I'm a swimmer so I went down to look at the water earlier in case anyone was in there. Nothing. Or nothing alive anyway," he sat down behind Claire.

"Cool. I'm gonna see if there's anything to eat," Kody's expression must have changed because Hurley glared at him. "Man, don't be that way. I mean stuff for everybody."

"Sorry. I'll stay with her though," Kody frowned. He trained so hard and long everyday it was hard for him to get his mind around the fact that someone could be that large.

"Ah, don't worry about it. I'll bring you guys back something!" Hurley got up and waved back at them as he walked away.

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**A/N**: First chapter, done! How do you like it? I like third person perspective better than first, but what do you guys think? I'm going to keep the chapters to a smaller size so I can update more often. The apps have all been really good, I haven't had to be hard on anyone yet, and there are still plenty of open slots left if you haven't applied!


	3. Chapter 3

Derrick might have hit his head, but he was still coherent enough to know that going near the still spinning airplane engines equaled a bad idea. Another man didn't seem to have the same sense, however. Derrick ducked and covered his head with the book he was holding, as the engine exploded. The sound of a man laughing a minute later finally brought him out of his crouch.

"Nice move there, Emeril."

"What?" Derrick glared the man stretched out on the sand like he hadn't a care in the world. Sure, he _used_ to be a chef, but it wasn't like he wasn't in his whites or anything.

"Well, Mr. Lagasse, you've got that bitchin' protective cookbook goin' on there, so I figure Emeril it is," he pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

Derrick flipped the book around and sure enough, it was a cookbook. Had a nice piece of metal embedded in it too. "_Derrick_, is my name. Better my book got it than my head."

"Better for who? I'm Sawyer—if anybody cares," he got up off the ground and lit his cigarette. "See you around, Em," Sawyer waved back dismissively as he walked away.

Normally Derrick would be beyond pissed at this point, but all he could think of was that this crap was going to ruin his sister's wedding. Experience told him half the budget in weddings usually went for food, and it was way too late to cancel and get her money back. The catering business was cutthroat. He ought to know too, since he used to be the guy aiming the knife. Plus it wasn't like they could just go on with it if they wanted to—how many times could Amelia be asked about her dead/missing brother before it drove her nuts?

Money aside, his ex was even going to dress his kid up in one of those tiny little suits for the wedding. She had custody and it was mess arranging visits sometimes, but he didn't want her and his son to be worried that Daddy was dead in the ocean somewhere.

_Well, you aren't. So stop being so fuckin' morbid. Maybe someone had a cell phone?_ He scoffed at himself as soon as he finished the thought. _If you can't get a stupid signal in a huge city like Los Angeles why would there be one here?_

Maybe he could blame his brain lapse on heat stroke or something. The crucifix he wore around his neck felt like it was stuck to his skin with glue, and his hair was sticking to his face and arms. Maybe if someone around wasn't too freaked out he could ask for something to pull his hair back.

_Yeah, I don't think the bald guy can help me with that, and the pregnant girl has bigger problems than my hair. Hmm, maybe that blond girl_, Derrick walked over to talk to her.

"Excuse me, miss?" Polite _could_ help.

She pushed her sunglasses down her nose and snorted at him, "Whatever you want, skip it."

"I'd say excuse her, but there really isn't one."

Derrick forced himself not to jump at the voice behind him, "That so?"

"Definitely. I'm Boone, and that thing over there is Shannon," the 'thing' in question flipped Boone off. "Shan gets classier everyday," He rolled his eyes then continued. "If you want pens, I've got you covered, otherwise you're out of luck," Boone held up a fistful of ballpoint pens, looking hopeful.

"Nah, I'm good," Derrick shook his head and sighed. _This is gonna be one for the books, I just know it. Hell, there goes Mr. Ballpoint with a cell phone, I'm surrounded by geniuses._ He'd just have to pretend he hadn't had the same idea.

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**A/N**: I had to do some guessing with Derrick here, but I think it went well—let me know if you agree or not, will you? I hope anyone I've asked to revise doesn't think I'm being too hard on them, I want things to make sense if at all possible. On another note about applications—I suppose I wouldn't want to hang around Ana Lucia either, but no Talies yet? ;_;


	4. Chapter 4

Regina shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Turbulence was terrible on her nerves, and since she'd already had one of the tiny bottles of airplane rum, they wouldn't give her another. Regina doubted that anyone would volunteer to give up theirs if she asked either. Unfortunately, she was also pretty sure she wouldn't be able to light a cigarette to get some nicotine without being tackled by a flight attendant.

"Hey! Watch it!" Startled, Regina yelled at the man who'd pushed on her seat while crossing behind her. He looked like _he_ was the one about to be tackled by flight attendants. _One of those_, she studied him with disdain as he disappeared into the bathroom. The sweaty, desperation gave him away—she might not test the products the family sold, but she'd met plenty who had. Regina took a deep breath and thought about what she had down in the cargo hold, smirking to herself. Whatever that guy was on was nothing in comparison with what she was carrying back to the States.

"_That_ is why I want to fly in first class!"

"Jesus, Shannon, get off it! It's done!"

Regina could agree with the loudmouth back there on one thing, she'd rather be in first class. Being inconspicuous was such a pain in the ass. If everything kept going her way she would never have to do it again, now she only needed to think up a better name before they got to LAX.

_It should be able to sell itself, but __Exp-Lot 108324-R__ is probably the most boring name for a drug ever. __Bliss__ sounded like something from a cartoon or video game, and it was too bad Ecstasy was already taken—_ Regina's thoughts derailed as the plane began to shake. _Just turbulence—_the oxygen masks dropped from the ceiling. _Or not_. She managed to get the mask in place just before the plane started to break up and the pressure dropped, knocking her unconscious.

A day later, Regina glared into the jungle. Why couldn't the stuff in the hold have stayed together? She'd spent most of the day before sorting through other people's crap, only to top it off with bad airplane food for dinner and weird noises in the jungle keeping her from sleeping. Shouldn't she get something for all that?

"What are you doing out here?" Regina turned to see a group of three lead by the doctor that had been running around the beach ever since they'd gone down.

"None of your business. Where are you guys going? Is there a spa over the hill I don't know about?" Regina gave herself a mental pat on the back, she didn't sound nearly as irritated as she felt.

"The cockpit should be over this way. We're going to see if we can find a transceiver to send a distress signal—I'm Charlie, by the way," Charlie rattled off, much too enthusiastically for her liking.

_Yeah, I'll bet he's looking for a transceiver,_ Regina thought. _I remember this jerk._

"We might find more survivors, too. That's Kate and I'm—"

"You're Jack, the doctor—everybody knows already," Regina thought he looked annoyed, maybe she wasn't doing as well with the voice control as she'd thought. "I'm Regina. I've been trying to round up stray luggage, and I'll bet there's plenty between here and there. I might as well go with you—safety in numbers."

Jack's jaw worked a moment but Kate stopped him from objecting, "We still don't know what that was last night, so we need to keep going, right Jack?"

He looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, but Jack agreed with her, "Yeah. Let's go everybody." He trudged in front of the group, not looking back to see Regina roll her eyes at him before reluctantly joining at the back.

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**A/N**: There's Regina, hope she came off alright. Twelve slots are filled, and I have one app I'm waiting on a revised version of. That means there are 7/8 slots still open if you haven't applied (or for an opposite gender character if you have!) Weird question: Do Canadians exist—the non-Quebec kind? Just asking, because I've never noticed anyone submit an OC from there and it looks kind of big on my map! ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Rain was confused. The church parking lot was deserted, none of the decorations were up, there weren't people from the caterer or the florist running around and trying to get things done. She knew she'd gotten the time right, she was the person who'd set it. _Why?_

Rain walked through the outer doors and then the inner doors. Down the aisle, her finance Steven was waiting with a sad look on his face. She felt her stomach lurch, and forced herself not to run all the way to the front.

"Steven, what's going on? Where is everyone?" Rain paused as she approached him, he was clutching a thick manila envelope in his hands.

Stephen sighed, "You know my mother never liked you. I wish I could say the same, so that this wouldn't hurt so much."

"Stephen, I don't understand—"

He cut her off, "Well, that makes two of us," then held out the envelope. "She knew I'd never hear anything against you, so she hired a private detective to follow you."

Rain stared at it like it was a snake about to strike, but eventually reached out to take it. _No, no, no, no..._

"If it had been just one guy, maybe I could have gotten over it. God Rayray, is that even all of them? Wait, you know what? I don't want to know. Everybody's been sent home, and I can live without the deposits. I'll send someone with your things to your grandmother's house—I'm keeping the dog," Stephen was looking down at the carpet, he couldn't bear to look Rain in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't—"

Stephen turned and walked away, he wouldn't hear a word.

"Hey, I'm Hurley and I'm kind of handing out stuff to everybody. So, you hungry or anything?" Rain was startled out of the millionth time she'd replayed that scene in her mind by a large man carrying a stack of food containers.

"Oh...not really but I guess I should eat anyway," she balled up the dress that had triggered the flashback. It made a scratchy blanket, but it was better than nothing, "Hi Hurley, I'm Rain."

"Dude, is that a wedding dress? This crash must suck extra for you," Hurley handed over a dinner.

"The wedding was canceled, this is the only use this dress is going to get I'm afraid," Rain felt her eyes watering, and her voice hadn't been steady either.

"Woah, um...don't cry... He...must have been a jerk?" Hurley asked hopefully.

"No, he was great. I was the jerk—I shouldn't have the right to cry over it," she gave him a pained smile.

"That's crap. If you feel like crying, go for it...wait, I'm the one who asked you to stop in the first place..." he wrinkled his forehead, looking confused.

Rain laughed at him, "I think I'll be okay. Thanks, Hurley." He looked pretty happy when he continued on his way passing things out.

Rain had only started to pick at her dinner when she was interrupted, "You and Mr. Chubbikins have a nice heart to heart?"

"What do... Wait a minute, I know you," Rain had a little trouble making out his face in the dark, but she recognized Sawyer.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure it was you at first Raindrops. After bein' in Oz for a while the accents start to sound alike," Sawyer sat down next to her.

"I guess every time something goes wrong in my life you're going to show up?" Rain had only met him once. She'd been flown to the States to talk about a screenwriting deal, only to be out the price of a ticket back home when she found out it was bogus. They'd met at the bar, had a night together, then it was time for her to go home.

"In _your_ life? This crash isn't a picnic for me either. Thought I'd see if you'd like to bunk together for old times sake?" Subtle for Sawyer usually only came with a con.

"No, I'm not that pathetic yet, but thanks for the offer," Rain decided if that was the only thing he was interested in, she'd go back to her food.

Sawyer snorted and stood up, "You'll miss me come mornin'."

Rain frowned to herself and resolved she would do no such thing.

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**A/N**: Some flashback action for Rain, hope it was interesting! Only one OC slot left now, so if you were waiting until the last minute to submit—it's the last minute!


	6. Chapter 6

"Agh! Disgusting! What _is_ that?" Boone covered his face with one hand, the smell was making him nauseous. Shannon smirked contemptuously at him, sunning herself on top of her beach towel. She was lucky enough to be upwind from whatever they'd found in the cooler.

Tasha scowled down at it, "I think you meant what _was_ that. It was kangaroo meat, I'd hoped the cooler was sturdy enough to keep the dry ice in, but I guess not." She had told her mother, half-way joking, that she'd bring enough kangaroo meat back for the whole family. There went that idea.

"Kangaroo? You weren't really going to eat it?" Boone said, muffled by his hand.

"People eat snake, frog, and alligator—why not kangaroo?" There was this place that made the most amazing fried alligator up in Baton Rouge... Tasha hoped a boat or a plane would show up soon, she'd make her father take the whole family on a road trip there when she got out of here.

"What people are these?" Boone asked, genuinely clueless.

"If this is headed towards some kind of racial insinuation, why don't I save time for both of us and knock you on your ass now?" _One good strike to the back_, she thought, _and his face might freeze that way_.

"W-what?! I-I wouldn't...!" Boone was shocked enough to move his hand away from his face, he didn't even notice Shannon laughing at him.

"The only one here with a problem is you, Tasha. Stop agitating everyone and get that awful smelling thing out of here. Some of us are actually working here." Unlike Shannon, Kimberly was downwind. Kimberly might have been thinking, _Shut up and get rid of it!_, but she could restrain herself and act like a civilized human being—unlike some people.

"Oh, please! We've been hauling stuff and digging though suitcases all day, but sitting on your ass with a pen and a pile of paper is working? Right," Tasha watched her clench her pen even more tightly in her hand.

Afraid of the potential catfight on the horizon, and in the interest of not being embarrassed further, Boone took the opportunity to escape, though Shannon yelled "Coward!" after him.

"I sure the..." Kimberly paused to look Tasha up and down, eyes settling on the tattoo on her back, "...motorcycle repair shop? Is really labor intensive, but some people have real jobs, or are working towards them. So if I want to grade papers for_ them_, I'll grade papers for them."

_Motorcycle?_ Tasha thought it was too hilarious to be offended, and so she started laughing. "Nice one, Tiger. Really tearing me up!"

Kimberly scowled as the woman kept on laughing and picked up her papers, storming further up the beach to get away from her nonsense. Did that woman have any idea how hard she'd worked? What she'd had to go through, to get where she was? Infuriating.

Tasha eventually stopped laughing and found a place to bury the contents of the cooler. Maybe if her work case hadn't ended up dumped in the ocean somewhere Tasha could show Kimberly a thing or two about real jobs. Of course, the guns, knives and ammo would probably send her off just the same—only scared instead of irritated.

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**A/N**: I combined Kimberly and Tasha into one introductory chapter since they were literally made to play off each other--they were an exception to the gender rule. I rewrote this a couple of times, so I'm a little later than usual. Still have that open slot, must be like the last piece of pizza—everyone wants it but no one will take it. If nobody claims it by the next chapter I'm going to make up an OC to close things out.


	7. Chapter 7

Boone was about to slow down and catch his breath when he tripped over a girl sitting in the sand.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry! I don't know why I keep screwing things up..." Boone watched her cover her face with her hands and try not to breathe. "Let me guess, I smell like a rotting kangaroo?"

Jordan would never have thought of something quite that specific, but, "Yeah."

Boone stripped off his shirt and tossed it downwind—the smell must have gotten into the fabric, "That's better. I don't think we've met, I'm Boone."

"Jordan," she rubbed her leg, he just had to run into the bruise that had finally started to heal up.

"Oh, did I do that?" Boone sat down next to her and looked at her leg. It looked like it had been healing for a while.

"I had it before the crash," her boyfriend had given it to her, actually, but she wasn't going to tell Boone that. Jordan would have to distract him, "Have they come back from the trip to the cockpit yet? I've been sitting here watching, but..."

"I don't think so, but I didn't even know anyone was going," Boone wanted to be doing something useful, instead of keeping an eye on Shannon and making an ass of himself.

"Jack, Kate and Charlie went, but I don't know if anyone else noticed. I thought I heard them talking to someone else, but I didn't want to get too far out there," Jordan watched Boone's face—whatever he was thinking about, it wasn't her bruise anymore.

Boone opened his mouth to say something, but thunder cracked overhead and rain started to pour down. Jordan surprised him by handing over a black umbrella, "You bring this to Australia with you?"

"No. They were afraid it was going to rain during the funeral, so they handed these out to everyone that came," Jordan sighed as Boone opened the umbrella. What was the point in thinking up a distraction when nature decided to provide one of it's own?

Boone was yelling to be heard as the rain pounded down on them, "Is that why you were is Australia, a funeral?"

Jordan wondered if the umbrella would hold out, it seemed cheaply made, "Yes. My parents were killed in a car accident."

"Oh, I'm sorry—both of them?" Boone watched her nod, "I don't know how I'd deal with that—both at once I mean. My stepfather died in a wreck a couple years back, but my mother and Shannon are still here."

Jordan frowned at the mention of Shannon, "Is that a good thing?" She half-hoped Boone wouldn't hear her over the rain.

"So, my sister's made another fan?" Boone wasn't offended, he was kind of used to it. "Has she gone out of her way to irritate you or is it her naturally charming personality?"

Just thinking about it made Jordan angry, "I was looking through all the suitcases to find mine since I had something my mother made for me in it. I did find it, but it looked like someone had already been through the suitcase. Shannon was there so I asked her if she'd seen anyone near it, but she acted like I was accusing her of stealing or something."

"I could help you ask around if anyone's seen what you're looking for. I mean, if you want me to?" The rain ended as suddenly as it began, Boone folded up the umbrella and held out his hand.

Jordan hesitated, then took his hand, "I... If you want to." Funny, her bruise didn't ache quite so badly anymore.

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**A/N**: Jordan's intro, and if you're wondering why Boone was doing this instead of keeping an eye on the Marshall, you'll see in an upcoming chapter. The only application I got seemed to be for another story, so I'm just going to add an OC of my own and close out the apps. Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing, I try to respond to them all even if it's just a 'thank you'.


	8. Chapter 8

Luna rubbed her eyes. She hadn't been hurt too badly in the crash, nothing some stitches and rest to build back some of the blood she'd lost wouldn't fix. Where was Jack? Luna wanted out of the tent—the only good thing about being in here alone was that she didn't have to be near the shrapnel guy. She hadn't minded being inside earlier when it was raining, but being cooped up alone only led her to think about things she'd rather forget.

Luna heard the rustling sound of the plastic tarp being pulled back, "Jack?" She sat up and turned around.

"I'm not the damn Doc. The banshees combing through the luggage said this thing was yours," Sawyer tossed a red suitcase at Luna. "No need to thank me, Snoopy—I already took my tip," he waved lazily in her direction and she caught a flash of silver on his wrist.

"That's my necklace!" Luna had wondered why he'd called her Snoopy, he'd already looked through her things!

"It _was_."

"You can't just take things that don't belong to you!" Luna opened her suitcase and started sorting through it frantically, hoping nothing else was taken.

Sawyer squinted at her, then at the chain around his wrist, and back and forth between them a few times, "I've gotta say you're wrong on that one."

Her jaw hung open for a minute, "Fine. Just because you _can_ take things, doesn't mean you _should_."

"Next you'll be telling me not to take candy from babies. Can't a guy have hobbies anymore?" Sawyer had intended to keep an eye on that suspicious Middle Eastern guy, but this was much more entertaining at the moment.

"I never knew being a jerk qualified as a hobby," Luna had known a quite a few of them too—high school seemed to be their natural habitat.

"Uh-huh," Sawyer pulled out a can from his pocket, popped it open, and took a drink, relishing the choking sound Luna made when she recognized another item missing from her luggage.

"You..."

"Not quite candy...but it'll do. I'd have kept the books too, but you don't have anything I haven't seen before," Well, except the diary, but he'd read through it pretty quick. Sawyer finished off the can then tossed it at Luna's feet, only to be disappointed when she only frowned at him. "What are you doing in here anyway? Doesn't look like the doctor strapped you to a life support machine made out of coconuts."

"Jack said I should rest and stay out of the sun. He's supposed to come check on me later, and hopefully I'll get to go out," she wished it was Jack here instead of a luggage stealer.

"What a bunch of crap. Come on," Sawyer grabbed Luna's arm, nearly dragging her outside until she managed to get her feet under her for a wobbly walk. "Didn't even turn to dust like a vampire."

Luna held an arm up in front of her eyes, she'd never wanted a pair of sunglasses so badly in her life. Blinking as her eyes adjusted, she ignored her dizziness by looking down at her arm, and was disturbed by how pale she was. Luna was starting to think that the blood loss had been a lot more severe than Jack had let on. She was almost ready to argue to be let go so she could go back inside, but Sawyer wasn't even paying attention to her any more.

"Why are you staring at him? Did he do something?" Luna asked and Sawyer finally let go of the grip he had on her arm.

"Only crashed the freakin' plane. Maybe you oughtta go back in, I'm gonna take care of this jerk," Sawyer stormed over to start a fight with a Middle Eastern man who seemed to be minding his own business, and Luna wished for the millionth time she knew where Jack had gone.

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**A/N:** Sick + lazy = slow. Sorry about that—I'm awful about updates to start with, and my constant coughing isn't helping. Anyway—there's Luna, hope you like her!


	9. Chapter 9

"Australia? Are you certain?" Alice winced as her uncle confirmed over the phone. "Can't you go? I'm only in my second year of residency, I can't just take off whenever..." He cut her off, insistent on the line. "Fine. I'll go, but you owe me for this," Alice slammed the phone down before he could get in any other suggestions.

The edges of her vision was starting to go black, so Alice sat down and took slow, deep breaths. The cat climbed into her lap, purring, "I'm going to have to find a place to board you, Salem. I'm going on an unscheduled holiday."

Alice called her boss in Pediatrics first, and was surprised she didn't have to beg too much for time off. The only irritating thing was telling him, several times, that yes she was British, and yes she was going to Australia to see her father. Why was that relevant?

After securing a place for Salem to stay, Alice tried to ring her old roommate, but only got an outdated voice mail saying she was out of the country. There was no predicting Charlotte, but she left a message anyway on the odd chance she might be in Australia.

Fifteen hours and an expensive ticket that she swore she'd demand reimbursement for later, Alice was in Sydney. She double checked the address in her hand with the number on the house, looking doubtfully at the child's play set in the yard. Why would her father be here? Alice knocked on the door, which was answered by a woman not much older than she was.

It was odd, Alice hadn't felt this nervous since she'd been a little girl, "Excuse me, I'm looking for Franklin Winters?"

"You aren't selling anything are you? We don't—"

"No, ma'am. My uncle has been trying to get in touch with him since he's been out of contact for a long time. He found this address and asked if I would come and speak with him in person," Alice tried to resist crumpling the piece of paper she was holding, as she fidgeted nervously.

"I don't understand what this is about, but I suppose you can speak to him in the kitchen," she guided Alice though a living room littered with toys to a table in the kitchen.

"Uncle's been looking for you," Alice knew the second she saw her father, the way his face went blank, that something was wrong.

"A-Alice! Y-You're alive! I-Isn't that wonderful?" The way Franklin was digging his fingers into the wooden table said otherwise.

"What do you mean, 'you're alive'? Why wouldn't I be?" Her mother had died in a car accident and she'd moved to the States to get a change of scenery—he knew this and had her address and phone number.

"W-Well..." his eyes darted to the woman who'd let Alice inside.

"I don't understand, Franklin. Before we got married you told me that your wife and daughter had died in a car accident..."

"One of those is true. Did you even wait until she was cold in the ground?" Alice was shaking, this was unconscionable.

"You have no right to speak to me that way! None!" Her father seemed to have decided he could play at indignation.

"I'm not going to listen to a word of it, save it for your new wife, maybe she'll buy your rubbish," Alice ran as fast as she could out of the house, nearly tripping on toys several times. She wasn't done with her father yet, not done at all.

Alice woke to the pained groans of the poor man with shrapnel sticking out of him. He wasn't fully conscious—not yet. They were going to have to forget about rescue and do the operation very soon for him to have any chance of survival. Jack was a great surgeon, everyone at work said so, but could he really do anything out here with no equipment?

She might be able to play nurse for a while, but she specialized in children, and rarely saw adults outside of clinic duty. Alice was afraid, and it wasn't because the police might be after her anymore.

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**A/N**: Meet Dr. Alice Winters! I just went back a re-read Alice's application and the children were supposed to be grown. -_-; Oh well, continuing on the subject of me being an idiot—I have always been bad at math, but I've just figured out that I can't even count! Instead of the one OC slot I thought was left, I have three! In any case, since toddlers are better at numbers than me, applications are back open for three more characters! If you'd like a rule exception, PM me before submitting an application, and I'll see what I can do.


	10. Chapter 10

Ray surfaced flailing wildly and coughing up swallowed seawater. Everything around him was chaos. There were people in the water, living and dead, and Ray was going to do his damnedest to get away from the dead ones. As he trudged up out of the water, he got his foot caught under a partially submerged tree branch, and fell forward wrenching his knee.

"If I wanted my fucking kneecaps broken, I'd have stayed in Australia!" Ray screamed as he finally drug himself up and onto dry sand.

"Who are you yelling at? You can shut up and help or you can get out of the way!" Ana Lucia was livid. "And watch your mouth! There are kids here!"

"Right. Out of the way it is!" Ray headed for the shade of the nearest palm tree. "I'll get a sunburn..." he trailed off, catching a glimpse of the palest woman he'd ever seen in his life. "But I've survived a plane crash and at least I'm not her," Ray managed to dig up some cheer.

Of course, talking to himself was probably a sign of some sort of madness, but not one he couldn't ignore. Ray had decided to sit down to rest his knee and wait for rescue when a man came running out of the jungle.

"Help! There's somebody in the jungle, come on!"

Ana Lucia came running towards them, "Well, useless—you gonna help or not?"

"I object to that! My name is Ray Scoresby and I'm not useless! Only...my knee hurts," He flinched as Ana shot him a disgusted look and ran after the man from the jungle. Where had the guy come from anyway?

"Oi! Wait for me!" He rubbed his knee as he limped quickly to catch up with them. When he finally did they were yelling up to a guy in a tree.

"What's your name?" Ana Lucia yelled.

"Bernard," responded the man Ray guessed was Bernard.

"Is the other guy dead?" Ray attempted to join the group only to be glared at by Ana. He crossed his arms, it was a good question. Sure, he wasn't moving, talking, or even the right color, but hope springs eternal and all that.

"I think he's dead," Bernard said.

"We should climb up there," he looked at Ray for support.

Ana Lucia interrupted before he could respond, "No."

Ray sighed, "My knee wouldn't take it, anyway."

"I need you to focus, Bernard. Unbuckle your seatbelt," Ana Lucia was directing him, and Bernard managed to get it undone. "Now, grab the branch next to you."

Bernard looked worried, "I don't think I can do that."

The seats were swaying dangerously and Ana Lucia called out, "Those seats are going to fall," noticing the same and Bernard finally started to reach out. "Come on, you can do it Bernard!"

The seats wobbled and fell just as Bernard finally got a grip on the tree, "Alright, hold on tight, okay. I'm coming up to get you."

Ana Lucia started to climb and Ray turned to the man he would come to know as Goodwin, "Scary, but at least the worst's over now, right?"

"The worst," he seemed preoccupied watching Ana Lucia climb. "I suppose we can only hope."

There was something in his tone that made Ray's stomach churn. They had made it though the crash alive, and really what could be worse after that?

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**A/N**: First glimpse of the tail section, opinions? I mentioned another OC here, because it would be odd for someone so strange to be unnoticed. In unrelated news, there's a link to the Lost kink meme on my profile, some very cool prompts already—submit some more or write a fic!


	11. Chapter 11

"Hey, that weird bald guy brought everybody some mangoes—want one?" Kody held out a shirt full of fruit.

"No thanks, I'm not hungry," Aeron was pretty much never hungry, she watched him turn and walk away feeling relieved. She'd spent a week with her friend Sandy in Australia and every time she turned around there was some kind of food being shoved at her, and she'd get upset if Aeron didn't try any. If she didn't feel like eating that was her business, just because everyone else wanted her to get fat...

Aeron frowned, she needed to find some way to exercise, this island didn't have any of the machines she needed. She could swim, but who knew what was out there? Poison jellyfish, stingrays, sharks, maybe even evil dolphins! There was running, but they'd already heard something in the jungle so she'd have to stay on the beach. Hopping over people and luggage ought to burn a few calories.

So Aeron ran. Over sand, wreckage, possessions, and the glares of other survivors who didn't disguise that they thought she was crazy. She'd just started to lose count of the number of laps she'd run, when someone grabbed on to her arm and stopped her from moving.

"What the hell are you doing?! Let go of me!" Aeron tried to squirm loose from the man, but his grip was too tight.

"Whoa, there. I'm sorry to grab you like this Miss," he paused hoping to be supplied with a name and got only a glare. "The thing is, you're starting to upset people, and surely they have enough to worry about already."

Aeron finally managed to wrench her arm free, mostly because he let up a little, "Who cares? I need to run so I'm going to run. Who the hell are you anyway?"

"My name is John Locke, but you don't seem to be offering anyone your name."

Oh yeah, the crazy bald guy, she'd heard of him, "You aren't getting it either, creep. I'm going to keep myself busy until a boat, or a plane, or something comes to get us, alright?"

John sighed and shook his head—why couldn't people be reasonable? "I hope you've got some bottles of water and something to eat. Running like that in this heat will make you sick."

Food. Why did it always come back to that? Aeron decided not to dignify that with a response and stomped away from Locke as quickly as she could, resolved not to run lest he decide to grab her again.

John called after her, "I've got some to spare if you need it!"

Aeron twitched, "I could tell you what to do with it! Don't talk to me!"

Having stomped all the way to the tree line, Aeron settled down next to a papaya tree, holding her nose to block out the smell of overripe fruit. She was thirsty now, but there wasn't any way she would crawl back to camp looking for a bottle. Hadn't Jack and some others gone off this way in search of the cockpit? She hoped they'd be back soon, she didn't want to deal with Locke, and the way everyone seemed to run to Jack it made sense to keep closer to him so she didn't have to worry about John.

A rustling behind Aeron that definitely was not the wind made her freeze. Sure there'd been the weird thing with trees and that noise the night before, but she'd half convinced herself it hadn't happened. Steeling herself, Aeron turned to look for the cause of the sound. A golden retriever stood in a gap in the foliage looking out at her. She rubbed her eyes, and when she opened them the dog was gone. Maybe the running had been a bad idea after all.

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**A/N**: Aeron everyone! I've rewritten this one a few times, still not quite sure about it, so I hope you'll let me know how it is. Thanks again for reviewing, it's tough working with other people's characters, and the responses always encourage me especially when I'm stuck.


	12. Chapter 12

Flowers, fruit trees, and toxic fumes—Henry couldn't stop sneezing. He could have dealt with that, but not on top of the runny nose, watering eyes, and the small matter of constant mortal terror. Henry hadn't felt this awful in years, and it came out in his stutter.

"D-do y-y-ou have a-any a-allergy m-medicine. I h-had a pre-prescription f-for C-C-Claritin..." Henry felt his face burn as he tried to talk to Alice, it was humiliating, even more so because she stoically ignored the stuttering.

"I'm sorry Henry, no one's gone through and looked for all the different medicines yet," Alice's eyes shifted to the injured man who wouldn't stay unconscious for much longer, "I wish I could help you more."

"T-That's okay. I-I'll t-try t-to think of s-something," Henry backed out of the medical tent. Not only was he feeling bad, now he felt guilty for taking her time away from someone so horribly hurt. The sun caught his eyes and he sneezed—again.

"Aw, dude! Did you have to sneeze? This mango just got cut up!" Hurley was sitting near a reused airline food container full of fruit, switching them out as Derrick filled them with diced fruit cubes.

"I-I'm not sick. J-just have p-problems with a-allergies," Henry shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny.

"Still gross dude." Hurley wasn't really mad, "Here, these ones are yours."

"T-Thanks," Henry took the container then turned to Derrick. "W-where did you g-get a knife?"

"What this little thing?" It was about the size of a paring knife. "Same place as the fruit, that guy Locke. Wish he could have gave me something bigger, if I've got to do a fish or something this is gonna be a pain in the ass."

"O-oh," Locke had knives? _Not good_, thought Henry. The man gave him the creeps as it was, especially after the scene with that Aeron girl. He walked back over to the blanket he was keeping his things on, frowning as he spotted his suitcase.

His copy of Hawking's _A Brief History of Time_ had been stolen. He was fonder of Michio Kaku's work with string theory, but he'd been looking forward to re-reading the Hawking, especially since he didn't have anything else to do. Henry sat down and dug out his notebook and a pen. He absently popped a piece of mango in his mouth as he studied the fuselage.

It would have been simpler if he had graphing paper, but he'd make due. The plane was a Boeing 777, and he could fill in the details about the rest of the plane judging by the way the fuselage had broken off. It was strange, he didn't understand how turbulence could break up a plane in such even sections. Henry scribbled equations working from his best estimates, but nothing added up. It was as if a giant hand had reached up and snatched them from the sky, which was ridiculous.

He flipped over to a new page and started over, trying to imagine looking down on the crash site from above. Accounting for bouncing off trees and sliding on the sand, the numbers still didn't add up, even as Henry included a downdraft with twice the pressure that had ever been measured. It had been a long time since his last sneeze, but now he had a headache. The numbers said the plane couldn't have crashed and they we're always right—when you knew what to measure. Henry shuddered and wondered how he could give a value to the thing behind the trees.

* * *

**A/N:** Astrophysicist Henry (not Benry!) Damien! Starting to get more character interaction as we go along. Henry's gay and I love slash but I haven't decided on a paring yet. Maybe you can help me make up my mind—which guy would you like to see him with?


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